Satin Stephanois
by DRL
Summary: Duo thinks about some very dear friends, now lost to him forever
1. Default Chapter

Satin Stephanois – Part 1

By

DRL

I didn't realise how hard this was gonna be, but the doctors say it will help me to get over it if I talk about it. I can't quite bring myself to talk about it, but I figured writing about it is pretty much the same thing. It's just as hard anyway.

Firstly, let me say that I was never quite convinced about Quatre and Dorothy. Quatre always said he suspected that his family and the Catalonias had made a kind of arrangement between them and the two of them, Dorothy and he, just went along with it because it was the path of least resistance. 'Just until someone else comes along' he always said, but no-one else ever did. Well not until..., but let me not get ahead of myself. Heero gets so pissed with me because he says I always do this when I'm telling a story. Well he used to anyway, but I haven't told a story for some time now and he hasn't been pissed at me about anything lately.

I suppose the whole thing began around eight years ago, at the Peacecraft Foundation Gala Performance after-show party. We were all around eighteen or so then, freshmen at college with our whole lives ahead of us. Both families, the Winners and the Catalonias had donated very publicly and very generously to the Foundation, a charitable organisation, and so were virtually the guests of honour. Quatre went with Dorothy of course, but he was as half-hearted about it as always.

"Just dump her and find someone else." I kept telling him.

"My family would kill me Duo." He always replied.

Personally, I would rather _be_ dead than walking out with Dorothy Catalonia, but then I'm speaking from the fortunate position of having Heero, so perhaps I'm just a little complacent.

There was never any love lost between Dorothy Catalonia and I. She thought I was a common little guttersnipe (which perhaps I was if you look at the thing squarely) and I thought she was an evil bitch (which she undoubtedly was, whichever way you cut it). Thankfully though, we didn't actually meet up all that often. Considering the fact that she hated Heero even more than she hated me and the feeling was quite mutual, cosy little foursomes between us were definitely _non grata_. Even though we were best friends, Quatre and I were from vastly different backgrounds, so Heero and I didn't exactly move in the same exalted social circles that Quatre and Dorothy did, which was a blessing once again. We couldn't help but end up fighting whenever we did meet and our constant swiping and bickering really upset Quatre.

Quatre's family had no problem with me though, impoverished background or no, so whenever they threw a party an invite always came my way, hence my presence at the after-show party that fateful night. The show had been a big-budget variety event in aid of the Peacecraft Foundation, with tickets on sale at exorbitant prices, all in a good cause. Quatre had rustled up a couple of freebie tickets he had claimed (although I secretly suspect he had paid for them out of his own pocket), so Heero and I had been at the show as well as the party afterwards, sitting up in the 'Royal Box' with the rest of the Winners, booted and suited to within an inch of our lives. It was great and the only cloud to cover the sun was Dorothy's presence.

Anyway, Dorothy notwithstanding, Heero and I had a great time and had succeeded in forgetting the old witch, when at some point late in the evening she came up to me and tapped me on the shoulder. I turned round, but the scathing remark that immediately sprang to mind on seeing her died on my lips as I caught sight of her worried frown.

"Quatre's missing" She replied, in answer to my solicitous enquiry.

"What do you mean missing?" I asked foolishly.

"I mean I can't find him." She replied, and it was a measure of her concerned distraction that there was no trace of the sarcasm that my stupid question so richly deserved.

It turned out that she was right. Quatre had indeed disappeared. The three of us (Heero, Dorothy and I) spent some time looking for him and came up empty. The problem was that we couldn't enquire too deeply because we didn't want to alarm anyone. We eventually went back to our apartment (Heero's and mine) and Dorothy deigned to accompany us. It's amazing how a shared crisis can bring people together isn't it? We decided that if he hadn't turned up by the morning, we would raise the alarm. A person had to have been missing for 24hrs before the police would do anything about it anyway so we figured we were okay, and bedded down for what was left of the night.

I had been certain that I couldn't possibly have slept a wink, but I must have fallen asleep because I woke up abruptly to the sound of a peal on our door buzzer. I sat bolt upright in bed and the events of the previous night came flooding back to me.

"Quatre!" I cried and forestalled Heero as he rose to answer the door. I ran to the door, threw it open and yes, it was indeed my erstwhile absent friend, still basically wearing his tuxedo, but with the bow-tie untied and hanging loosely from the collar of his dress-shirt, the sleeves of said dress-shirt loosely rolled and his jacket slung nonchalantly over his shoulder. Wherever he had been he had had a good time because he looked rested, refreshed and contented.

As I opened the door he stepped forward to enter the apartment but I stopped him with a hand on his chest, stepping out of the door instead and pulling the door to behind me, but not so completely as to shut myself out. As I did so I threw a quick glance over my shoulder to check that Dorothy was still asleep on the sofa (my recent good will towards her did not extend to offering her our bed for the night). Luckily (and amazingly) the door buzzer had not woken her. I knew that the poor guy's ass would be in a sling over this when she caught up with him, so I wanted to give him a few hours head start.

"Where the hell have you been?" I hissed at him through clenched teeth, "We've been searching for you all night. Dorothy's asleep on the sofa in there for Christ's sake!" I added emphatically, to prove just how bad things had gotten.

Quatre ignored me completely, looked dreamily up at the ceiling and said, "Duo, I've just met the person I want to spend the rest of my life with."

I was momentarily taken aback by his words, but never one to be stymied by events for long, I quickly rallied and said, "Atta boy! Did you meet her at the party last night?" He sighed wistfully, but before he could reply I clamped a hand over his mouth. "Shit, Dorothy's up." I had heard her voice behind the slightly open door, presumably exchanging a word or two with Heero. "Go now, quickly, before she sees you. Lie low and call me when you can. I'll make up some excuse for you." I ushered him down the stairs, deeming it too dangerous for him to wait around in the hallway for the elevator with Dorothy at large.

When I went back into the apartment Heero informed me that Dorothy was in the shower. I brought him up to date with the situation and together we concocted a cover story. We were quite pleased with ourselves for having come up with something that would guarantee her refusing to see him for at least the next week. We told her that he had had one too many at the party and was sick. Some of the guys found him slumped in the men's room and decided to take him home before the press got hold of the story. She swallowed it hook, line and sinker, as we knew she would, and she also let rip, cursing Quatre to hell and back, then swept out of the apartment like an avenging fury, without so much as a thank-you for our hospitality. So keen was she on venting her anger and vowing bitter retribution, it hardly seems to have occurred to her that poor Quatre was virtually teetotal and hardly ever touched a drop, leave alone drinking to excess but then again, therein lay the success of our story so I couldn't really complain.

Having thus disposed of the harpie, I waited for Quatre's call, eager to hear who the mystery lady was who had spent the night with my shy, retiring best friend and put that idiot smile on his face. When it finally came I was to have the surprise of my life which, if I really thought about it, was no real surprise at all. He called about an hour after Dorothy left and after having established his whereabouts and appraised him of the situation regarding Dorothy, I cut to the chase.

"So, who was she then?" I asked.

"Oh Duo," Came the winsome reply, "He's just so wonderful, and he's so beautiful. Our eyes met across the crowded ballroom last night and I knew instantly that he was the only one for me. He's got the most amazing green eyes and..."

"He?" I queried incredulously, fighting to get a word in edgeways.

"Yes." Quatre replied without missing a beat. "His name's Trowa. Isn't that wonderful? 'Trowa', it simply rolls off the tongue."

Well, I thought, something was gonna roll when this got out, and it wasn't gonna be Trowa's name. I thought I had better check that I had things straight.

"So he's a guy huh, the one you spent last night with?" I asked, interrupting another catalogue of green-eyed Trowa's attributes.

"Yes, I told you." Quatre replied impatiently. "And you needn't say it like that. All we did last night was talk. He's just so wonderful Duo..." And so on, and so forth...

It turned out that green-eyed Trowa was one of the performers from last night's show. I remembered his act once Quatre had mentioned it. He was one of a group of circus performers who did an absolutely amazing acrobatic/high-wire act. They were by far and away the best act in the show and received a well-deserved standing ovation for their pains. I remembered green-eyed Trowa too, well his body anyway. Weeell, I might have Heero, but I'm not blind, deaf and dumb. The strangest thing was that, while listening to Quatre wax lyrical about his new-found beau, it never seemed to have occurred to him that it was in any way strange that he, an apparent heterosexual, should be speaking this way about another guy. I thought I might just broach the subject one more time.

"So Q, this guy Trowa, he's like, a guy right?"

"Yes Duo, he's a guy. Why do you keep asking me that?" Quatre's reply was testy, but then again, so was mine.

"BECAUSE YOU'VE GOT A FUCKING GIRLFRIEND!" I retorted. This shot seemed to have hit home. He was silent for a while, a long while, and when he finally spoke again he was more subdued.

"Oh, I um..., I forgot about her."

"Evidently." I replied briefly.

"I suppose it is rather odd, when you think about it." He conceded.

"Isn't it?" I agreed dryly. "You arrive at a party with a girl and leave with a guy. Yes, one could describe the situation as 'rather odd'." Then we were right back on the _subject du jour_.

"I'd really like you to meet him. You _and_ Heero, of course. I've told him all about you both, and he's dying to meet you. Are you free this evening? He has to practise today so he can't do lunch, but we've agreed to meet this evening..."

Heero and I met green-eyed Trowa that evening and we discovered that it wasn't all hyperbole on Quatre's part. He _was_ beautiful (though not as beautiful as Heero) and he _did_ have the most amazing green eyes, not to mention the most 'floppy, cinnamon hair. He was also quite..., I hesitate to say quiet because that wasn't quite it. There was a stillness and serenity about him that I found almost fey, and Heero found just plain weird. He was quite obviously besotted with our Quatre though, and the two of them hardly took their eyes (or their hands) off each other all evening. This was quite refreshing to see, because in all the time that Quatre and Dorothy were dating, this was something that we never saw, not ever. It was also not a little worrying, because Quatre had quite a high-profile life, and that profile did not include a male lover! If he kept this up in public, it was only a matter of time before he was snapped by some newspaper photographer, then the shit really would hit the fan. Heero and I had dinner with Quatre and green-eyed Trowa, then we left them, green-eyed Trowa having passed muster and been deemed a suitable companion for our friend.

Quatre disappeared for the next three days, but I was no longer worried, since I knew that he was safe and happy, in the arms of green–eyed Trowa. He had his own apartment, so his family were none the wiser about his reckless behaviour, but this situation could change at any moment, and it was this that worried me. On Heero's advice I tried to persuade Quatre to tell his family and, more importantly, Dorothy before they read it in the morning papers. He was reluctant at first, perhaps understandably, but this was not due to the fact that he was about to come out of the closet but because his new boyfriend was a circus performer with no money or connections, and I don't say that Q's family were snobs, but I too suspected that it was the latter rather than the former that would outrage them more. His father would be cool about it (eventually) but his bevy of sisters and brothers in law would hit the roof, and so it proved (but that's another story). He whined a bit about how all he wanted was to be with Trowa and why was it so big a deal anyway and why couldn't everyone just leave them alone, but he saw sense eventually.

Quatre was also under pressure to break the news about green-eyed Trowa and he because of Dorothy. He could only avoid her for so long, but since he and Trowa seemed compelled to spend every waking moment together (and every other moment for that matter), it was only a matter of time before she ran into them both. Anyway, this was the height of the social 'season' and Quatre and Dorothy were expected to turn up to various society functions together. The story Heero and I had spun had long since worn thin, Dorothy's ire had cooled and Quatre was no longer _persona non grata_. He trod water for a little while, accompanying her to one or two parties, but he was not able to keep it up. It was not in his nature to string her along like that. While he did not want her as a partner (for obvious reasons as it transpired), he didn't particularly dislike her as a person (unlike myself) and he felt that she deserved better than that. Well perhaps she did, but Quatre also realised that there was no easy way to do what he had to do because of Dorothy's volatile nature. If she knew, then everyone would know. He decided to tell his father first (who would then inform the rest of the family), then Dorothy, then let the rest of the dominoes topple as they would.

All things considered, breaking the news to his father could have gone worse. I wasn't privy to the conversation, but I had a blow-by-blow account of it from Quatre himself. Quatre had wanted me along for moral support, but I figured that having me there would only rub salt into the wound. I knew that I would be blamed for leading him astray, since I was openly gay and the whole Winner family knew it. Heero and I always attended the Winner functions we were invited to as a couple. We were tolerated, but never really accepted, his family being a little narrow minded when it came to people like us. Not only were we 'blue collar', but we were 'blue collar' and gay! It couldn't get any worse as far as they were concerned. It didn't bother Heero and I any, but it didn't exactly bode well for Quatre and green-eyed Trowa. He was even more 'blue-collar' than we were. He lived in a trailer for Christ's sake! I could just see the headlines 'WINNER HEIR SHACKS UP WITH TRAILER TRASH TRAPEEZ ARTIST' – real class.

As I said, it could have been worse. Mr Winner blew up, then boiled down, blew up again and then, businessman that he was, he telephoned his PR people and asked them how he could turn the situation to the advantage of WEI.

"There's got to be an angle here," He barked into the telephone, "There's always and angle. I want a proposal on my desk by Monday morning." This was Friday evening.

Mr Winner then laid down his terms. He told Quatre that he (Mr Winner) tolerated homosexuality but he could never accept it (just as I had suspected). He just didn't think it was right. He said that Quatre could live whatever depraved kind of lifestyle he wanted, all he would be expected to do would be to provide an heir. He would remain in the bosom of the Winner family, his generous allowance would continue, and he would still enjoy the benefits of being the heir to the Winner fortune. The family would stand by him, loyally support and defend him publicly (Mr Winner would see to it). However, he would be expected to father a son within five years, a son whose mother had an exemplary family background, exceptional breeding, and an unimpeachable reputation. The child would also have to be conceived and born within wedlock.

"This is all I ask of you and if you fail to comply, consider yourself no son of mine."

Harsh words, but he did cut Quatre a little slack by offering to arrange the marriage for him.

"If need be I will find young woman whose family could be persuaded to allow her to marry you, but the rest would be up to you."

I wondered how much ''persuasion' would make anyone allow their daughter to marry under such circumstances, and it occurred to me that green-eyed Trowa was coming at quite a price, both financial and otherwise. Before all this it was generally assumed that Quatre would marry Dorothy and everything would be a foregone conclusion. A fate worse than death if you ask me, but then perhaps I'm no judge.

'I hope he's worth it Q', I thought.

Quatre told me that he deemed it wisest not to argue, considering himself as having gotten off fairly lightly. He figured that his father would come round eventually, that the wound was still raw and Mr Winner was just angry. He felt sure that his father couldn't possibly force his own son into a loveless marriage, leave alone insist on bringing a child into such a union. I myself was not so sanguine. Quatre was ever an idealist and I secretly believed that this was more wishful thinking on his part than anything else.

When he broke the news to Dorothy I was once again only given the story by Quatre, but I'm sure it lost nothing in the telling. He seemed more affected by this revelation than he had when he broke the news to his father.

"She didn't do any of the things I expected her to do," He told me. "She just sat there in stunned silence for a long while, then she began to cry. Not hysterically as I expected, but quietly, and so pitifully that it almost broke my heart. I tried to comfort her but she drew away from me as if I were a leper. 'I'll never survive the humiliation' she kept saying. 'I'll never be able to hold my head up again'."

This statement was a typical Dorothy exaggeration. She did survive the humiliation and she held her head up just as high as she always had.

The furore waxed and waned. The news that the Winner heir was gay was a 'nine day's wonder'. Quatre Winner and Trowa Barton (that was green-eyed Trowa's surname) were big news for a few weeks then, as these things do, the whole thing died down. It did no end of good to green-eyed Trowa's circus troupe though. They were quite popular anyway, but they turned over millions at the box office, due to people coming along to get a look at him. Green-eyed Trowa couldn't deal with it though. I always found him a little strange, but he became even stranger and the relationship between Quatre and he became more and more intense.

Q, Heero and I continued our studies at college and though Q was a little more distracted now, his grades didn't slip one little bit and he was still the model student. Green-eyed Trowa finished his season with the circus, but it was a travelling show and when the troupe upped-sticks and moved to another city, he decided not to go with them since by this time Quatre and he were inseparable.

Anyone who thought that Q was just going through a phase with this gay thing (specifically his wishfully thinking family) was destined for disappointment. Two years on and green-eyed Trowa and he were both as completely in love as two people could ever be. Quatre seemed ecstatically happy and I was pleased that my friend had finally found the love that had eluded him for so long, but I discovered something about green-eyed Trowa that gave me a few reservations.

I have to say that although Heero and I got along fine with him, green-eyed Trowa had always been weird. I remember that Heero had spotted it the first time we ever met him, but it took me a while before I finally saw what Heero had seen straight off. The fact is that he never seemed to be altogether there. Now by this I mean that although he might be sitting right there with us, he never seemed to be wholly there. It's hard to put into words, especially since as time went on his strange behaviour became so much the norm that we ceased to even notice it, but he always seemed... distracted, as though he were present in body, but only half in mind. If you spoke to him he would answer off pat as if he had been paying full attention the whole time, which he may well have been, but if you looked closely at him while talking to him you would notice that although he seemed to be looking at you, his gaze was glassy and unfocussed, as if he were thinking about something else, although he kept his end of the conversation up perfectly. If you watched him for a while you would notice him suddenly tense, as if he had heard something, then his eyes would dart around the room as if looking for something. Then at times he seemed so nervous and tense that I would wonder whether Q and he had had a fight (a ludicrous idea really), but then they would be as 'all over each other' as they always were, completely dispelling that unlikely theory.

Quatre always acted as if nothing untoward was happening and that green-eyed Trowa was acting completely normally. Heero and I used to wonder whether he might be on drugs of some kind. I made up my mind to ask Q about it, but Heero eventually dissuaded me, telling me to just leave well alone, quite wisely as it turned out. How we eventually discovered what green-eyed Trowa's problem actually was was perfectly simple and required no effort on our part. We were simply told.

It was about three years after green-eyed Trowa and Quatre had met. Trowa had left the circus as I said, and he and Q were living together in Q's apartment. We had just finished our finals prior to graduating and Q had invited us over for a celebratory dinner. Green-eyed Trowa had a sister, Catherine, who used to perform at the circus with him and she was visiting with them at the time. However, when we got to the apartment only Catherine and Chang Wufei where there. Chang Wufei kind of worked for Quatre. Wufei's father held the post of secretary-cum-general factotum to Quatre's father and now Wufei performed the same services for Quatre, although he was more of a friend than an employee. He was around the same age as the rest of us and he was just one of the gang really, except he got paid for it. Nice work, if you can get it.

Wufei let us into the apartment and showed us into the lounge, telling us that Quatre and green-eyed Trowa had stepped out for a short while. Catherine was there though, and after exchanging a few pleasantries, it was she who unwittingly let the cat out of the bag.

"Trowa's going through a bad patch again." She said with a heavy sigh.

I had turned to her with a puzzled frown, about to ask what she meant, but Heero's warning glance checked me. I schooled my features into a mask of empathy.

"Again?" I said, hoping that this would encourage her to continue. It did.

"Yes." She replied. "He's refusing to take his medication, and you know what that means. Quatre told me that he's booked Trowa into a clinic though. It's supposed to be the best in the world at treating people with paranoid schizophrenia. It has a very good reputation and Trowa has finally agreed to go, so hopefully he should begin to improve soon."

So that was it. I glanced across at Heero and saw that even he was affected by Catherine's startling revelation. I'm sure _she_ didn't notice a thing, but I knew him too well to be fooled. I can read his apparent lack of expression like a book and I could see that he was as surprised as I was. Paranoid schizophrenia? Shit, that was some heavy baggage green-eyed Trowa was carrying.

"Trowa had been edgy all day really" She continued, "And begun to get a little agitated about some 'little worms' he said were crawling across the carpet to get him," She gave me an apologetic little smile at this point, "so Quatre suggested that they go out for a little walk and that perhaps the 'worms' would be gone by the time they returned." I nodded sagely and she continued. "Quatre has been so good for Trowa," She said, "He's perfect for him. Trowa responds so well to him and Quatre is so patient and understanding. He always seems to know just what to do when Trowa has his little problems and he loves him so much, despite everything. He truly is a godsend." Heero and I nodded our agreement that Quatre was indeed a ministering angel but before we could glean anything further, voices from the hallway heralded Quatre and Trowa's return.

Quatre entered the lounge and took us all in at a glance. As he did so his welcoming smile faltered. It was almost imperceptible and I'm sure Catherine once again noticed nothing, but Heero and I both did. Quatre recovered himself immediately, but the game was up – he knew it and we knew it.

We all had dinner together and nothing was said at the time. Green-eyed Trowa behaved much as he always did and the evening was a resounding success. This being said though, watching Quatre and Trowa interact with each other , Quatre's protective, almost 'mothering' attitude towards Trowa now made a lot of sense. I had always noticed it of course, but Quatre was just that kind of guy anyway, and add to this the fact that he was completely besotted with Trowa, the thing seemed perfectly natural. After what Catherine had said however, it seemed even more natural, and she was quite right, Quatre was perfect for Trowa. Later on during the evening Quatre got me alone on the balcony on some pretext.

"She told you didn't she?" He began with out preamble. We didn't look at each other, we simply stood side by, arms leaning against the balustrade, looking out at the city lights.

"She didn't mean to," I replied, "She assumed we already knew."

"I knew she would," He said, "That's why I left you alone together." I should have known. Quatre may have been soft as a mitten and mild as a ham, but he certainly wasn't stupid. "I've wanted you to know for so long but it wasn't my secret to tell." He continued. "I promised Trowa you see, I promised him quite early on in our relationship that I wouldn't tell anyone. I don't think for one moment that he meant I shouldn't tell you and Heero, but I did promise, and a promise had better be a promise to someone with Trowa's... difficulties." I nodded my understanding even though he couldn't see me.

"How long have you known?" I asked.

"From the start." He replied. "He told me that first night we met, when we spent the night talking. He told me all about himself, so there isn't anything I don't know about him."

"And you still took him on." It was an observation not a question, but he replied nonetheless.

"Of course. I loved him – how could I do otherwise? From the first moment I saw him I knew I loved him. He could have told me he had leprosy, it wouldn't have made the slightest bit of difference to me. He was the one I wanted, whatever the circumstances."

"Do you feel any different now?" I had to ask, even though I well knew what the answer would be. He laughed, somewhat mirthlessly I thought, and said,

"No Duo, not one bit. Only death will part Trowa and I."

The doom-laden voice in which he said this made me feel decidedly uneasy, so to lighten the mood a little I said,

"You're an amazing guy Quatre and if I wasn't in love with Heero I'd be in love with you. I hope green-eyed Trowa knows how lucky he is."

He laughed again, good naturedly this time, and he pulled me into a tight hug.

"I love you too Duo," He murmured into my ear, "And I'm the lucky one, having a boyfriend like Trowa _and_ a best friend like you."

To be continued.

13


	2. Chapter 2

Satin Stephanois – Part 2

By

DRL

Shortly after we graduated Quatre was suddenly laid low with quite severe abdominal pains. We were all quite worried at first, then he found out that he had gallstones. I was surprised to hear this, because I thought that this that was something that only people who ate a poor diet got and also, wasn't he kind of young for that sort of illness? Anyway, he went into hospital and underwent surgery to remove the gallstones. It was a relatively minor procedure and he was in and out quite quickly. Heero and I visited him often while he was recuperating at home. We found him physically well, but a little down because green-eyed Trowa was himself undergoing treatment at the schizophrenia clinic and Quatre was missing him very much.

The clinic did seem to help green-eyed Trowa very much, so Quatre thought it well worth the anguish and despair he always went through during their time apart from each other. Over time Quatre had told Heero and I a little more about Trowa's condition and the measures that were taken to treat and control it. As a result we understood him and his behaviour a lot better and we were able to treat and deal with him quite normally, even when he was going through one of his paranoiac periods.

Quatre got better, Heero eventually got himself a really good job and I opted to stay on at college to do a postgraduate course. Quatre decided to take a year or two off to do some travelling before settling down at WEI, so he and green-eyed Trowa hit the road. Heero and I didn't see all that much of them for the next couple of years, although we heard from them often and we received frequent postcards from them from various exotic locations around the globe.

They seemed to be having a thoroughly good time, until Q called me one day in a complete panic. He was extremely upset and he explained to me that he was calling from his apartment in town. He had been summoned back for an interview with his father. He answered the summons and Mr Winner told him that he considered it high time that Q took steps in the direction of producing an heir. He told him that he had already begun the search for a suitable 'bride' for him, and that Dorothy Catalonia was top of the list. Apparently her father was not adverse to an alliance of the two families and he thought that, if Dorothy was approached in the correct manner, she might also be made to see the value of it.

Quatre was understandably having kittens. He had naively hoped that his father's resolve on this issue would have wavered by now, but it clearly had not. I could have told him this of course, but... Anyway, he was not only balking at the idea of an arranged marriage with Dorothy Catalonia, but more importantly, he was worried about what this latest bombshell would do to green-eyed Trowa's already fragile wits. He said his father had told him that the details of the 'arrangement' would take some little time to work out, so at least he was not in any _immediate_ danger of having to stand at the alter, whey-faced and trembling, while Dorothy Catalonia advanced up the aisle towards him on the arm of her father, but the sands were running out. There were no real words of comfort that I could offer him because the whole situation seemed to have the inevitability of a Greek tragedy about it but I mollified him as best I could and shortly afterwards he rang off.

Heero and I spent quite a bit of time with Quatre and green-eyed Trowa before they left again to continue their travels. They both seemed in fine fettle, in spite of everything. Although Trowa was well aware that Quatre's father heartily disapproved of Quatre's relationship with him, and he knew all about Mr Winner's plans for Quatre regarding the production of an heir, Quatre had always played the whole thing down so as not to cause any upset to Trowa, as he did now regarding this latest development. I really admired this in him, because having spoken to him just afterward, I knew exactly how seriously his father's words affected Quatre, but seeing him in the days following, while Trowa was around, one would have sworn that he had nothing on his mind but his hair. I think he missed his calling – he would have made a rare actor.

When their whirlwind visit was over, Quatre and Trowa resumed their travels and life for Heero and I settled back to normal. I completed my postgrad studies and did remarkably well. Heero persuaded me to study for a doctorate. He was doing very well in his job and was making more that enough money to keep us both and pay for my studies, so I agreed (although the prospect of being called 'Dr Maxwell' for the rest of my life went some little way to convincing me). We moved out of our city apartment, bought a large house in the 'burbs', a car and a dog, and became respectable citizens. I still retained my waist-length braid however – I could never be _that_ respectable. Heero went out to work to 'win the bread' and I stayed home to keep house and work on my Ph. D thesis. All very domestic, and all very wonderful. Life was very good.

About a year to a year and a half after Quatre and Trowa had left following Quatre's interview with his father, a strange incident occurred. I remember it as if it happened yesterday because the whole thing was so odd. It was around three o'clock on a Wednesday afternoon. I was not working on my thesis that day, and I was busy in the laundry room folding some laundry, when I heard the doorbell. I went to answer it and to my utter amazement, who should be standing on the doorstep but Wufei. I ushered him in and asked him what on earth he was doing here, not that I wasn't pleased to see him, but he was supposed to be overseas with Quatre and Trowa. I asked him if his presence meant that Quatre and Trowa were back in town. He said no, it didn't, and something about the way in which he said it gave me the feeling that he wasn't telling me the truth. He then said that yes, Trowa was in town because he was back at the clinic for a while, but that Quatre was still overseas. I found this strange because while Trowa did occasionally have to return for treatment at the schizophrenia clinic, Quatre always came with him. Even though he couldn't go into the clinic with him, he always liked to be close by. I mentioned this and Wufei said that Quatre had sent _him_ to be with Trowa instead. Now I _knew_ that he wasn't telling the truth. Quatre would never do a thing like that. What would be the point of sending Wufei? If Trowa needed anything, it would be Quatre he wanted, not Wufei. Also, sending Wufei away meant that Quatre would have to fend for himself, a thing he has never had to do before in his life and would be entirely incapable of doing.

Wufei did not stay very long, but the longer he did stay the more convinced I grew that something was very wrong. He seemed preoccupied and distant, in fact, his behaviour was not unlike green-eyed Trowa's when in the grip of his paranoia. I didn't challenge him though. I offered him refreshment, which he refused. We chatted desultorily about various inconsequential matters, and all the while his eyes roamed around the room, alighting on everything else but my own, and he toyed nervously with his car keys. Several times he seemed to gather himself together as if to make an announcement of some kind, then his shoulders would sag again and the moment would pass. When he finally rose and abruptly took his leave, I hate to say it but I was relieved, so oppressive was his presence. I called Heero immediately, and so upset and unsettled was I by the visit, that he felt moved to come straight home and comfort me.

I never did find out what that visit of Wufei's was all about. I called Quatre later that day but got no answer, which was by no means unusual when he was overseas, so I thought nothing of it. However I did hear from him a few days later. When I told him that Wufei had dropped by, he sounded surprised, and a little apprehensive I thought. I also told him of my surprise that he did not accompany Trowa to the clinic. He attempted a light laugh and said that as Trowa would only be gone for a short time, he thought he would try to get by on his own. As I said before, Quatre could be a consummate actor when he wanted to be, but he did not convince me this time. I allowed him to keep his secret however, and simply asked him if he was feeling okay. His voice had seemed a little weak and strained to me. He said that he was fine, but that he was feeling a little sad and depressed because he was missing Trowa. I did my best to cheer him up, which I seemed to have succeeded in doing by the end of the conversation, then promising to call again soon, he rang off.

Time went by and we saw Quatre and Trowa only occasionally, as they were still spending most of their time overseas. Quatre's 'year or two' off had become almost four years by now, and counting. It looked to me as though he had absolutely no intention of joining his father's firm. It was at this time that another strange thing happened and unbeknown to me at the time, this heralded the beginning of the end. I received a call from Quatre as I was lazing around in the house one Sunday afternoon, and he excitedly asked me,

"Duo, guess where I'm calling from." After a few stabs in the dark, I gave up and admitted defeat. "I'm calling from The House." He supplied triumphantly.

"The Winner House?" I asked with not a little incredulity, since Heero and I received a postcard from him and green-eyed Trowa only the previous week, featuring a very nice picture of Ayres Rock and informing us what a wonderful time they were having in New Zealand.

"Yes," He confirmed, "And Trowa's here with me. We're going to stay for a while." I began to ask him how this miracle had been achieved, since the last I heard the name of Trowa Barton was anathema to Quatre's father, but he cut me off. "I only called to invite you and Heero to dinner tonight. If you have any plans, cancel them. We'll expect you at seven for cocktails. Dinner will be at eight. It'll be formal so wear black tie, and don't be late! I'll explain everything when I see you."

Quatre never did 'explain everything'. We arrived for dinner on time and suitably attired, and Mr Winner was as congenial a host as he usually was, with the exception that his hospitality had been extended to green-eyed Trowa for the first time ever. One would never have known it though. He behaved throughout as though Trowa was a much-loved son-in-law, and as though dinner all together was a regular and most welcome occurrence. Whenever I tried to ask Quatre what had happened to make his father extend the olive branch to such an extent, he artfully steered around the question, babbling on about this, that and the next, never really answering it. The thing was, I couldn't really work out whether he was just too excited about the whole evening or whether he was deliberately evading the question. I let it go. The fact was that Quatre and his father were reconciled, and I didn't want to look that particular gift horse in the mouth.

I found out another wonderful thing that evening. It seemed that not only had Mr Winner extended the hand of friendship to green-eyed Trowa, he had also withdrawn his demands regarding Quatre's producing an heir and Q was now free to do and live as he pleased. 'Well, lucky Quatre', I thought, 'all his problems are over'. Little did I know.

Even though Quatre and Trowa were now living in the same city as Heero and I, just as when we were students, we did not see each other as much as we had back then. Our lives were very different now. We were much older, we had more responsibilities (well Heero and I did anyway), and we had better things to do than hang out at each others' houses. Even so, it was good having them back, and knowing that they were both close at hand and very happy. Wufei moved into the Winner House also, although he was now perforce somewhat superfluous as Quatre's 'keeper'. It was good for him to be with his father again also, so it seemed to work out all round.

Heero had a wonderful stroke of luck, in that his company had asked him to go Japan to set up a new office they were opening over there. Heero is of Japanese extraction, and had been born and had spent most of his childhood in Japan. He was excited about going back to his homeland, although he was a little apprehensive also, since not all of his memories of his childhood days in Japan were good ones. I was allowed to go with him, and I was also excited about seeing his roots, where he came from. I thought it would be an important trip for both of us. I had never been there and he had never been back since leaving her shores many years ago, so it was a first for us both. We had a wonderful three months, although I worried about Mitzi, our Finnish Spitz, almost incessantly. We left her with a neighbour and after a little initial pining, she seemed to settle down quite well. Then I began to worry that she would forget us and not want to come home. I think I almost drove Heero mad. Anyway, it was a very successful trip for him and a very enlightening one for me, but we were both very glad to get home.

We came home to a mountain of mail, and as I sorted the 'wheat from the chaff', I recognised Wufei's handwriting on one of the envelopes. It was postmarked only a few days previously. I was puzzled as to why Wufei would send a letter rather than just call, so I ripped open the envelope.

_Duo and Heero_

_Please call me as soon as you return. Do not call the Winner House, call me on my cellphone. This is very important._

_Wufei_

That was all it said. As I read it an ominous feeling of dread welled up in the pit of my stomach. As I stood there stupidly reading and re-reading the note, Heero came in. He was about to go across the street to retrieve Mitzi from our neighbour, but as he took the note from my nerveless fingers and read it, he decided to leave her where she was for the moment. He gently sat me down on the sofa, reached for the phone and called Wufei.

The conversation was brief. A few affirmative grunts from Heero were all I heard before he hung up and turned to me.

"He's coming over." He said. He then sat next to me on the sofa and took me in his arms.

Neither of us wasted any time speculating as to what we thought might have happened. We both knew that whatever it was, it couldn't possibly be good. We sat there, holding each other until Wufei arrived, our joy at finally being back home forgotten.

When Wufei arrived Heero rose to let him in. I didn't go to the door but I was on my feet when Heero showed him into the room.

"Wufei what's happened, where's Quatre?" I asked anxiously. Heero had crossed the room to stand beside me. Together we stared expectantly at Wufei. It was then that I took in Wufei's appearance. He looked tired, haggard and utterly drained. Dark circles ringed his red-rimmed eyes and his coal-black hair hung limp and lifeless around his drooping shoulders, as if he couldn't even summon up the energy to tie it back in its customary pony tail.

"Duo," He began, then he looked from me to Heero, then back to me again. "Duo, Quatre's dead."

I have only a hazy recollection of what happened after that. I remember my knees giving way beneath me and Heero's strong arms breaking my fall. I also remember crying, quite a lot. It seemed as though I cried for a whole week solid, but I can't have can I? It must only have been hours, perhaps only minutes. I think I must have been hysterical, because Heero went out and fetched our neighbour, the one who was looking after Mitzi. He was a doctor and I remember him injecting me with something. I remember that distinctly because it hurt, but mercifully I soon forgot everything and drifted into a dreamless oblivion. It was too good to last however, and I eventually came to and had to face the reality and the enormity of what Wufei had told us. I was calmer by then, completely numb in fact, and I was able to listen to the circumstances of my best friend's death.

Quatre had been suffering from stomach cancer for the past six years. He was diagnosed shortly after we graduated, although he had been having symptoms long before that. He didn't want to worry anyone, so he kept it to himself. The only person who knew about it from the start was Wufei, and he only told Wufei because Quatre knew that he would need to enlist some help in order to keep it from everyone else. His tumour was quite well advanced by the time he sought medical attention, and he knew pretty much from the outset that his case was terminal, but it was decided that removal by surgery might provide a temporary remission. This was the gallstones operation. He had apparently asked his doctors for the name of a non-serious condition that had symptoms similar to those he had been experiencing. This way he sought to deflect any curiosity from friends and family regarding his health. I remember thinking at the time that Quatre hardly seemed to fit the profile of gallstones sufferers, but I saw no reason to look enquire any further and neither, it seems, did anyone else. He succeeded in throwing dust in all of our eyes quite nicely.

He even fooled green-eyed Trowa, and green-eyed Trowa was closer to him than anyone else. Wufei told us that this was the real reason for the schizophrenia clinic. Apparently if it hadn't been for his illness, Quatre would never had allowed green-eyed Trowa to enter an institution, which when all was said and done, as expensive and luxurious as it undoubtedly was, this is ultimately what the clinic amounted to. Quatre always suggested a visit to the clinic to Trowa whenever he felt his symptoms coming on. So that Trowa would not see and become upset by his obvious suffering, he sent him away to the clinic. This was a useful expedient for Quatre because not only did it keep green-eyed Trowa out of the way, it did him the power of good also. This was also why he spent so much time overseas. That way he would not have to deal with untimely visits from well-meaning friends (meaning Heero and me). One had to admire Quatre, he was definitely an artful deceiver.

He could have prolonged his life had he agreed to chemo or radiotherapy, but he flatly refused. Such treatments had very visible and debilitating side-effects, and once again, Trowa was to be kept in the dark as long as possible. This whole elaborate charade was purely for green-eyed Trowa's benefit. Quatre knew that they only had a limited time left together, and he wanted that time to be a happy time for Trowa, not spent watching him waste away, balding and toothless as a result of chemotherapy. He opted for the surgery, which would give him as long as it gave him, and then when the tumours returned, as he knew they would, he decided to have no treatment at all, until the end came.

"But why didn't he tell _us_?" I wailed as Wufei related the story. I could understand him keeping it from green-eyed Trowa, but from _us_? I was so hurt by the fact that Quatre did not deem even Heero and I worthy of his confidence, that I started crying all over again.

"It wasn't that he didn't trust you to keep his secret," Wufei reassured me, "He knew very well that you would take it to your grave if need be, it was jus that he knew that you loved him too much to be able to treat him normally if you knew, and he was afraid that Trowa would pick up on that. Remember, Trowa suffered from paranoid delusions, and you know how his mind could sometimes distort his perception, and how perfectly normal statements and occurrences could take on a new and sinister meaning for him." Wufei was right. Heero and I knew this only too well, having been intimately acquainted with green-eyed Trowa for over eight years. "Well this was why he didn't tell you. He just couldn't be sure that by some..., no not word, because he knew that you would never give him away verbally, but by some gesture, because of your concern for him, you might not arouse Trowa's suspicion and as you know very well, it is a very bad idea to lie to a paranoid schizophrenic."

I understood, but his words were cold comfort to me. The person I considered dearer to me than a brother had been dying for six years, and I new nothing about it. I never even guessed that anything was wrong! No, this was not quite true. There were times that I suspected that something was definitely wrong, but I never guessed that it could be anything like this. What kind of a friend must I have been? I then turned my abject grief and self-recrimination upon Wufei.

"And you?" I raved at him, "How could you not have told us? How could you have let him die and not told us? We could have helped him, I'm sure we could have done something." I broke down weeping again.

"I wanted to." Wufei said lamely. "I wanted _him_ to. Believe me, I begged him to tell you, or to let me tell you. I kept telling him that it would be worse for you when the end came if you hadn't known beforehand. He acknowledged that I was right, but he would not risk Trowa's happiness. It was between you and Trowa, and I'm sorry Duo, that was one battle that you would never win. 'Heero will help him' he would say, whenever the subject came up.

I almost did tell you." He continued. "Do you remember that day when I came round to see you out of a blue sky, and you were folding the laundry?" I remembered only too well. "Well I made up my mind to tell you everything that day. If you recall, Trowa was in the clinic, and you expressed surprise that Quatre was not with him. The reason he had not come was that he was too ill to travel. He was actually in a hospital in Buenos Ares at the time I was sitting in your kitchen making polite conversation, and I believe that he phoned you from there a few days later, when he was able to speak. I got Trowa out of the way quickly by telling him that Quatre's father was in Buenos Ares on a on a business trip, and wanted to see Quatre. He knew that that meant that his presence would not be required, so he and I went on to the clinic ahead, him thinking that Quatre would follow on later. Trowa was far from happy about leaving him, but he saw that he had no real choice."

"So why didn't you tell me that day?" I asked.

"I just couldn't bring myself to betray Quatre's confidence." He replied. "He had constructed this cocoon around Trowa so carefully, that I just couldn't take the responsibility of telling you upon myself. What if he was right, and because of something you did, albeit unwittingly, the whole house of cards came tumbling down around his ears? What would I do then? No, I'm sorry but I just couldn't do it."

I nodded absently, not able to summon up the will to do anything more. I felt drained, drained of tears, drained of emotion, even drained of life.

He went on to tell us the reason for Quatre's father's sudden change of heart. It was because Quatre felt the end was coming and he didn't want to die far away from his home, his friends and his family. He actually told his father everything. Well that changed everything and Mr Winner decided to allow Quatre to live out his days in any way he chose to.

"He wanted to tell you too, at the end, but you were overseas and he didn't want to interrupt Heero's business trip. He knew how important it was for you." He turned to Heero as he said this.

"What about Trowa?" I asked, suddenly revitalised, "He must be devastated, where is he?" I tried to scramble to my feet, but Heero tightened his hold on me fixing me in position against his broad chest.

"It's alright," He said soothingly. "He's at the Winner House. While you were under sedation Wufei and I made arrangements to drive out there as soon as you were able to travel."

"We have to be quick." Wufei said. "I didn't want to leave him because there is no-one else there to really look out for him and I'm very worried about what he might do. I managed to locate Catherine and she is on her way. She will be able to help me take care of Trowa, but she will take a day or so to get here. Eveyone else is too caught up in their own grief to spare a thought for Trowa, and they don't know about his condition. Only Mr Winner knows, and his thoughts are most definitely elsewhere. I came out to tell you the news, because I didn't want you to come to the house without being prepared. There is a news blackout on the story for a while, but not even the Winner PR machine will be able to contain it for long. You came back just in time because I was worried that you might learn about it in the papers, and I wanted to avoid that at all cost."

We made our way to the Winner House as soon as we could, but we were too late. By the time we got there green-eyed Trowa had attempted to re-join his beloved Quatre by the simple expedient of walking into Mr Winner's study, taking a small calibre revolver out of the desk drawer, putting it to his head and pulling the trigger. We heard the shot as we entered the house, and we were the first to arrive on the scene. The emergency services were called and he was rushed to hospital, but he was pronounced dead on arrival.

There is not much more to say. Six months later and I am doing much better than I was. Heero has been so patient with me, I don't know how he does it. Even though it was a crucial time for him at work, especially after the Japan trip, he took a sabbatical to look after me. 'There will be other opportunities' he says, whenever I mention the fact that I have ruined his career. My doctorate is also on hiatus for the moment. I don't think I will ever complete it now. Even the thought of 'Dr Maxwell', has lost its appeal.

It hit me hard, but I think it hit Wufei even harder, and unfortunately he doesn't have a Heero to help him through it. He stays here with us sometimes, but I don't think he likes to, because it reminds him too much. It reminds him of the fact that if it hadn't been for us, for me, he might have been able to save Trowa. It looks as though I'm just destined to ruin everything for everyone doesn't it? Heero tells me not to talk like that, but it's true isn't it?

I think of Quatre and green-eyed Trowa often. All the time, in fact. I wonder if they are happy where they are. I think they must be, because at least they are together and they were always happiest when they were together. Trowa survived Quatre by four days. They were buried together in the Winner family vault, so Quatre was not quite correct when he said that only death would part Trowa and he. Not even death could do that.

12


End file.
